


Enough

by EchoEquinox



Category: Scooby Doo - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Underage Drinking, some allusions to parental abuse but it's not gone into explicit detail
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-06 06:45:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14051259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoEquinox/pseuds/EchoEquinox
Summary: The gang has solved every mystery they've tackled so far, but they never come out unscathed.





	Enough

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've written in like......... months, lol. I dunno, just some sad sappy shit, I love the idea of the gang being together, forged through all of their horrible shitty experiences. Enjoy

When the cameras turned off, the smiles faded. They always did. They sat in the back of the Mystery Machine, head in hands. Shaggy was quaking and Fred had an arm around him, Daphne patting his knee absently as Velma stared into the van’s far wall. After a prolonged moment, Fred jerked, slamming a hand into the wall, causing the others to jump and Scooby to yelp. Shaggy let out a sob and Fred recoiled.

“I’m- I’m sorry, Shag,” he muttered, scooting away as Daphne rubbed the lankier boy’s back. Velma sighed, expending what little energy she had to rise and grab the first aid kit, moving to Fred and beginning to inspect his now bloodied hand.

“Velma, I’m- I’m sorry, I-” She shook her head, looking up into his eyes, something like pleading behind her watery eyes. He blinked back tears of his own and turned away as she disinfected the broken skin, wrapping it in gauze.

“Is it my fault?” Their eyes followed the whisper to Shaggy, staring down at his hands. They were still shaking, and his eyes seemed unfocused. “Are you mad at me, Freddy?” he whispered. “I- I know we fucked up the plan, but like, I was just- we tried so hard, and-” He trailed off, his eyes flicking between Fred and his hands.

“No one’s mad at you,” Daphne said softly, pressing a kiss into his temple and threading her fingers with his. “You did fine. WE all did fine, Shaggy. We got out of it, didn’t we?” The words hung in the air, all eyes avoiding looking at Scooby, curled up in the corner, nursing what was likely a broken, or at the very least fractured, leg.

“If we hadn’t- if we had been there, been where you said and when we c-could’ve, like…” Daphne silenced him with a kiss, cupping his cheeks. He wept softly against her lips, and when she pulled back, their faces were both stained with tears.

“Raggy?” Shaggy’s eyes shot open, his dog sitting at his feet. “Ron’t be sad, Raggy,” Scooby said softly, nuzzling his owner’s hand. Shaggy stifled a sob, scratching behind Scooby’s ears and letting his head fall back.

“I’m not mad, Shaggy,” Fred said, nestling in close, Velma on Shaggy’s other side as they each took an arm. Fred’s calloused fingers ran along Shaggy’s arm comfortingly, Velma staring at the wall, idly holding onto the other one.

“Velma,” Daphne said, moving to hold her hand. “You’re dissociating again.”

“I’m-” She stopped, her brain working a mile a minute as she tried to find the words. “I’m just… calculating how I could’ve done better. I-I should’ve considered variables out of place, a-and I could have made sure we were all where we needed to be, and if it hadn’t been for that stupid trap I put together, Scooby wouldn’t have-”

“Velma,” Fred said firmly, and she slowly moved to meet his eyes. “Everything worked. The trap worked, the plan worked, and we’re all… we’re all still here.” Shaggy winced, looking down at Scooby’s leg, but Scooby just licked his face until he let out a weak chuckle.

“All still here,” Velma parroted, nodding and staring off into space. Daphne nestled in next to her, resting her head on Velma’s shoulder and gripping her arm tight. Velma patted Daphne’s hand, but her manicured nails dug in deep, needing. Velma knew she was Daphne’s rock. She took refuge in Velma’s cold, undeniable logic. She told them when they’d make it out, or when things looked dire, and she was never wrong. At least, that’s what Daphne believed. Velma had lied more times than she could count, saying she knew they’d all be safe, because if she was wrong, she knew they wouldn’t be there to know she lied.

Velma started when Daphne pulled away, reaching into her pocket for a flask, yanking off the top and downing its contents.

“Daph….” Velma said, frowning. The redhead gave her a flat look and Velma couldn’t bring herself to chastise her. Daphne finished the flask and moved to one of the side compartments, opening it up and pulling out a bottle of flavored vodka, taking a pull from the bottle. Velma could feel Fred stiffen, he hated when Daphne drank, but no one said anything. They all coped in their own way. Velma knew that none of their ways of coping were HEALTHY, not by a long shot. She’d taken several psychology classes, and was always baffled with the impersonal way that her fellow students approached the class. She just assumed everyone had trauma. That was just how it was, wasn’t it?

But no, normal high schoolers didn’t HAVE that much trauma. Normal high schoolers didn’t drink vodka in the back of a van while sobbing, having just grinned for camera crews and put on a pretty face to the public for being Heroes. Normal high schoolers had parents, or families, people who cared. Normal high schoolers didn’t know the DSM front to back so that she could identify the symptoms of her and her friends’ trauma, and know how to approach it without exacerbating it. Normal high schoolers didn’t break into abandoned warehouses, trying to do what was RIGHT because god damnit, no one ELSE would.

They hadn’t been normal high schoolers in a long, long time.

Shaggy was crying into Fred’s shirt again, Scooby was asleep in a corner near the front of the van, and Daphne was muttering softly, her breath stinking of vodka. Velma realized she’d must have started dissociating again. How long had she been doing that? She knew it wasn’t good, evident of much deeper cracks in her mental state, but it helped her. She needed to be the logic of the group, the voice of reason, when they were all breaking down around her.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she’d speak reason. Tonight they were all so… defeated. They’d WON, they’d uncovered who was behind the mysterious happenstances, but they were just so defeated.

The world saw a group who would drive in, solve strange goings-on, and leave to come back another day. They were heralded as heroes, despite breaking quite a few public laws to do so, and were often given free passes by local law enforcement. Velma idly wondered what it would have been like if they weren’t all white teenagers. Their adventures probably would have ended a long time ago.

The Mystery Incorporated the world saw was not who they felt like most days. Even digging around for clues and trying to understand the mysteries they solved, they were broken. Shaggy was the worst. She didn’t press into his childhood, and from what she understood, he remembered very little about it. Repression. But the fact that he and Scooby jumped at every noise, ran faster than anyone on their high school track team, and recovered so quickly from bruises was… disconcerting, to say the least.

“Velms,” Daphne slurred, and her head snapped up. “Come have… come have drinky with me,” she said with a smile. Her eyes were unfocused and Velma knew that drinking only made her worse, but…. She took the bottle, taking a drink, and by god did it feel good. Her father was an alcoholic. A hereditary addiction, she remembered reading. She really shouldn’t drink, but Daphne made it seem so appealing, and fuck, she was so BEAUTIFUL, and just…

“Velma,” Fred snapped. Velma winced and turned, meeting his eyes. For a moment, she thought she was going to see rage, like she was used to when someone yelled like that. Fury bearing down on her, but he was just… sad. Disappointed. She screwed the cap back on the bottle as Daphne whined and put it back in its hiding place.

“No more, Daphne,” Velma said, holding Daphne close as she began to sob. “I know. It’s not good for you. I shouldn’t have let you drink so much, I’m sorry.” She ran her fingers through the long red hair as she hiccuped and sobbed, nails once again digging into Velma’s arms. She looked up, closing the gap quickly and smashing their lips together, a messy open mouthed kiss. Velma could never resist her for long, but she slowly pulled away after a moment, cradling Daphne to her chest as she wailed.

Fred and Shaggy were nestled together, Fred stroking Shaggy’s hair and kissing his forehead softly. Shaggy was still shaking, though not nearly as bad as when they first got in the van a few hours ago. Shaggy’s fingers were quaking as they ran against Fred’s chest, and Fred smiled sadly as he held the younger boy.

“I’m sorry, Freddy,” Shaggy muttered softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“Shag.” Fred pulled Shaggy’s chin up to look him in the eyes. “I’m so… SO proud of you. You did so good today. You and Scoob did amazing, you helped us catch the bad guy.”

“B-but-” Shaggy stammered, a sob choking up in his throat.

“No. You did great, Shaggy. I’m proud of you.” Shaggy held his gaze for a moment before breaking down, taking fists full of Fred’s shirt as he sobbed into it. Velma met Fred’s eyes from across the van and nodded. She knew he wasn’t happy about the way things went. They’d have to spend some money they didn’t have on a veterinary bill for Scooby. But the most important thing was making sure Shaggy felt loved and wanted.

Fred had expected things to go far differently when he came out as bisexual to his parents. He was the star quarterback, he was getting great grades, and he’d only recently been hanging out with a group his parents didn’t quite like. Velma, Shaggy, and Daphne were seen as social outcasts, but after a run-in after school with a masked monster, the group became quick friends. When he came out… Fred didn’t like to talk about it much, but when pressed, he remembers “being hit a lot” by his dad. He shakes it off, smiling and saying that the worst is over, but they all see how HAUNTED he is, just beyond the facade of leadership and strength, just how broken he is.

Velma sat in the center of the floor, pulling Daphne in close and nodding towards Fred and Shaggy. The two boys moved closer, all close together in the middle of the van. They huddled in close, holding each others hands and kissing, crying softly, to the background noise of Scooby’s snoring and crickets chirping outside.

It wasn’t ideal. They weren’t normal high schoolers, and they were all so, so broken. But they all made it out. They had each other.

And that was enough.


End file.
